


Stuck(y) in the Club

by somerwrites



Series: Stuck(y) in the Club [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies)
Genre: Clubbing, F/F, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-17 23:36:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2327273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somerwrites/pseuds/somerwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam drags Steve clubbing to get over a bad break-up.</p>
<p>Prompt suggested by puurdence on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck(y) in the Club

“C’mon, Steve. You know as well as I do that you’re not gonna get out of this rut by just lying about and sulking.” Sam leans against the doorframe of Steve’s bedroom, sipping a cup of coffee and looking at Steve with, sadness? Pity? Whatever it was, Steve didn’t much care for it.

“Just leave it alone, Sam. A guy’s gotta have time to mourn,” Steve says to the wall, his back to the door, “it wasn’t like it was a short fling. We were together for months.”

Sam sighs, shifting his position, trying to find the right words to bring his best friend and roommate to a better mood. “And that sucks, bro, I know. I know exactly how that feels.”

Steve shrinks from the statement; he’s been so stuck so deep in his own self-pity that he’d completely forgotten. Sam had been with Riley for going on five years when he’d died, and Steve was surprised at himself for the lapse in judgement.

Suddenly Steve feels pressure on the other side of the bed; Sam had sat down. “I’m just saying, you gotta get out of this room, out of this house, and just try to enjoy yourself. Reconnect with the world.” Steve can hear the worry oozing from Sam’s words, “It’ll do you some good.”

Steve sighs to himself. Sam’s right. Sam’s always right. 

Sitting up on the bed and half-turning towards Sam, Steve looks through his eyelashes at his roommate. “Where do you have in mind?”

And that’s how Steve ended up at The Red Room; apparently the hottest nightclub this side of Brooklyn, which, Steve had no idea how impressive that was supposed to be. 

Sam had dressed him in “appropriate attire” which meant the tightest button-up Steve owned and a pair of Sam’s jeans, as all of Steve’s were “old man clothes, c’mon man who dresses you?”

Sam’s reasoning for the impromptu dress-up game was that they had to be let in to the club. Steve couldn’t reason why you had to pass a test to get into a dark, dank, loud, crowded, sticky room, but he didn’t have time to question it as he and Sam were immediately waved past the velvet rope and pushed through the door.

For someone who had never been in a nightclub before, Steve’s imaginings weren’t far off from reality. The bar was surrounded five people deep, the music was loud enough that Steve couldn’t hear Sam talk even when he was yelling directly into Steve’s ear, and the flashing lights did not help his vision in the thick darkness. Following Sam towards the bar, Steve must have looked like a lost child, his senses all being overstimulated at once, never knowing where to look or where not to look. Sam just kept laughing at him, patting him on the back, and shouting something like “you’re gonna be just fine, soldier!”

Steve must have been just standing there for at least ten minutes, just trying - and failing - to take in everything the club was trying to give him. His entire body was telling him to leave, to get out of there as fast as he possibly could and crawl back into his bed and maybe he would get to sleep tonight. Maybe he wouldn’t lie awake thinking of her. Maybe he would be okay without this interference in his routine, this fierce push by his best friend to try and make things okay. Just maybe life would get better on its own without him needing initiative. 

As Steve is about to bolt for the entrance (or maybe there’s an exit somewhere he hasn’t found yet? Steve suddenly really hates that he has no idea how to get out of this place) Sam is right in his face yelling something about girls and dancing and pointing to two gorgeous women slightly gyrating by the bar. He decides to try and read Sam’s lips and keens their names are something like Natalia and Sharon and that they want to dance with him and Sam. Also that they’re “totally into you, dude!”

Somehow Steve’s not all that keen, but he goes along if only for Sam’s benefit. The ladies both seem absolutely lovely, and they’re quite keen to see Steve out on the dancefloor (even if he would immediately embarrass himself with his lack of rhythm), so he follows them, Sam managing to make both girls howl with laughter even in the din of the club. 

They walk down the short set of stairs that lead from the bar to the dancefloor and Steve cuts off from the group, attempting to get his bearings. One girl, the blonde (is she Natalia or Sharon? Steve doesn’t have a clue), turns around to find where he’s run off to. She spots him, the heavily muscular wallflower he is , and starts taunting him to come join her dancing by doing that ‘come hither’ finger motion people do in movies to try and coerce people into dancing. Steve never liked when that happened - if somebody doesn’t want to dance they shouldn’t be forced to dance. Don’t make people do what they don’t want to do. However, he declines as politely as he can manage, holding up an open palm and shaking his head softly. 

Apparently she doesn’t take that and instead rushes forward and catches Steve off-guard, pulling him by his shirt sleeves onto the floor and starts dancing next to him. Steve decides he likes this girl after all. She hasn’t pulled him very much onto the floor - just onto the edge - and she’s not forcing him to dance with her - just to be next to her while she dances.

Just as Steve’s getting lost in thought, the blonde waves her hands in front of his face and makes a gesture of ‘you’ve got your head in the clouds’. That makes Steve laugh, he’s got to admit, and as is his forte Steve full-body laughs, eyes-closed, leaning backwards. This makes the blonde laugh as well, lurching forward and tapping him lightly on the chest for support (or maybe not, Steve thinks what with the way she’s been looking at him all night). 

When Steve manages to right himself and wipe at his eyes, he looks up and notices Sam and the red-head grinding on either side of… someone absolutely captivating. 

Steve doesn’t know what it is that draws him to the man, but something between his long, greasy, unkempt hair; and his thick thighs in tight, tight pants; and the left arm of his t-shirt pinned up against his shoulder, just draws Steve’s eye so he can’t look away.

Sam notices his attention being caught by this man and smiles so wide Steve just knows he’s gonna get hell for this later. The red-head woman also seems to notice the attention the man in the middle is garnering, and pats him on the shoulder and points to Steve. When the man looks up, Steve’s lost for words.

The man stares at Steve through his bangs and grins, continuing to grind up against Sam and leaning back against the red-head to kiss her passionately as she grinds against him. Sam’s just lost in his own world, laughing that of course he takes Steve out to a club and of course Steve only has eyes for this random dude and not any of the fine ladies he’s surrounded by. Sometimes Sam feels totally confused that he’s gifted with knowing such excellent, confounding people.

Steve seems stuck in place. He can’t figure out how to walk anymore, let alone move his legs at all. When the man had grinned at him, all teeth, with the slightest inclination of madness reflecting in his eyes, Steve had felt pinned to the Earth. 

Steve can only help but watch Sam and the others dancing to the music. The blonde woman had joined them all and managed to coerce the redhead to start kissing her instead, both of them passionately feeling each other up, the gap between them getting lesser with every beat of the song. 

It’s only when he feels someone brush against his side that he notices where the other two have gotten to. Sam’s brushed past him, still laughing, towards the bar - for another drink maybe? - but the man, he’s right in front of Steve, menacingly looking into his eyes, making it impossible for Steve to look away. The man quirks an eyebrow, asking if it’s okay what he’s about to do, requesting permission to engage with Steve physically.

As if in reply, Steve darts his eyes to the man’s mouth, his full, wet, bright pink lips, and licks his own. 

The man grins, baring teeth, and pulls Steve into the throng of swiftly moving bodies. Steve all at once feels overwhelmed and intensely-panicked, but he feels a hand on his hip which distracts him just long enough for the man to bring their foreheads together and push Steve to move with the beat. Before he knows it the girls from before are behind him, pushing him closer to the enticing man, pressuring him to engage, to allow himself this, to allow himself to want. 

Steve’s head is on fire, his eyes burning, mouth going dry. He’s not sure if this is a panic attack or if he’s just terrified to participate lest he lose himself; lest he enjoy his life for a single second. 

He tries to pull away, to get out of the throng and off the dancefloor and out of the club, but the hand on his hip clutches at his shirt, and a thigh is pushed gently but firmly against his crotch, and all of the sudden there is a chest against his, a mouth against his, and two fierce blue eyes staring into his own. 

That’s just the reassuring push that Steve needed. With this complete stranger pressed against him, their mouths hot and wet, moving together, moving with the music, moving with the rest of the club, everything else seems to just fall away. He grabs at the man’s sides, feeling the soft muscular hips, reaching down to his ass, experimental touches pressing questions into the skin. Is this okay? Are you okay with me being here? Are you kissing me because we’re in a club and that’s what people seem to do, or are you kissing me because you want to?

He pulls away from the kiss to try and catch his breath, leaning his head back to look up at the ceiling, taking gulping breaths of the thick, moist air that smells like sweat, alcohol, and damp. The man pulls himself up against Steve’s chest, craning his neck, his lips meeting Steve’s ear.

“‘m Bucky.”

The name catches in Steve’s throat, the man - Bucky - licking his way back down, stopping at intervals to kiss the letters into the skin. Kisses Steve’s earlobe - B - kisses his jawline - U - licks along his neck - C - kisses the base of his neck - K - plants a big hickey on his collarbone - Y.

A low moan escapes Steve’s throat, much to his embarrassment. But Bucky just laughs and kisses Steve’s Adam’s apple, licking to the other side of Steve’s neck and leaving another deep hickey just below his ear. 

Steve can barely take it anymore and lifts Bucky’s chin up from his chest so he can kiss that sweet mouth again. Apparently taken by surprise, Bucky lets out a small moan Steve feels against his tongue, which in turn makes Steve involuntarily grind against Bucky’s thigh, still pressed into Steve’s crotch. Bucky releases his grip on Steve’s shirt, reaching to cup his face and lock his fingers in his hair. Steve move his hands to the small of Bucky’s back, pulling him as close as possible against his own body, jutting his hips against Bucky’s thigh.

Steve feels so embarrassed, rutting up against this stranger like a horny teenager, but he can’t seem to help himself. Bucky seems to realise his eager impulses and grins against the kiss, deepening it to reassure Steve that he’s doing everything right. Everything is just perfect. 

Realising that Bucky is getting a raw deal here, Steve removes his left hand from Bucky’s back and moves it between their bodies, running the tips of his fingers along Bucky’s hips, asking permission to go lower. Bucky’s hips stutter at the contact, eagerly coaxing Steve to yes, please do that, I need it, please, as he kisses Steve deeper still, his hand starting to pull on Steve’s hair.

Steve’s fingers play at the waistband of Bucky’s jeans, popping the button with practiced ease, and blindly moving in. Steve’s honestly shocked to find that Bucky’s going commando tonight, but doesn’t have time to think on it as Bucky jutts up into Steve’s hand wantonly, pushing his thigh up against Steve’s crotch as he does so. 

As Steve takes hold of Bucky’s cock he feels a surge of pleasure - he’s got his hand down the pants of a complete stranger in a club he never would have gone to by himself, the experience is completely terrifying. Bucky notices Steve’s apprehension and pulls away from the kiss to meet Steve’s gaze, searching for clarification that yes, Steve wants this, keep going. Steve just stares back at Bucky, biting at his lip, obviously uncertain but wanting to keep going, to please Bucky, to please himself, to keep this adrenaline pumping. At this insistence, Bucky leans in close against Steve again, licking Steve’s earlobe and moaning when Steve rubs his hand along Bucky’s cock. 

After a few strokes they both get into a rhythm with the generic bass-heavy music playing in the club. As Steve strokes Bucky he rubs his crotch against Bucky’s thigh, and Bucky presses against Steve with every movement. 

Suddenly Bucky pulls back a little, pupils dilated with lust, mouth wet and wanting, and shouts something at Steve.

“Bathroom?!”

Steve just nods.


End file.
